


Cow Bells and Dog Tags

by Myssi



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Amputee!Bucky Barnes, Bucky has no idea what he wants to do, Clint knows too much about animals, Clint lives on a farm, College!AU, M/M, Pre-Vet Major!Clint, WinterHawk has consumed me, actual trash, compost couple, deaf!clint barton, literal litter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myssi/pseuds/Myssi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clint is a Pre-Vet Animal Science major and Bucky has no idea what to do with college but he does know that his fencing partner's best friend is really cute. And talks a lot about animals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Too Early for Palpating

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this fic, and thank you so much for stopping by. I'm kind of flopping around here when it comes to writing long fics, as it's something I've never done before, so I hope you all enjoy. 
> 
> As a side note - I'm an animal science major, so most of what happens to Clint in this fic has happened to me. In fact, everything in this chapter I've done. Fun times.

Bucky has never considered himself university material, to be completely honest, but somehow he’s ended up at one. Which is why he’s here, at the university quad, sitting on a bench and reading something about a guy called Prometheus and drinking his mocha with a dazed expression.

Mornings really aren’t his thing, you see.

Neither is mythology. But seeing how he’s an undeclared major, he’s somehow ended up in mythology. “ _It’ll be fun_ ,” Steve said, “ _You’ll learn things_.” Bucky has since decided that Steve is stupid and also that Bucky is stupid for taking advice from an art major.

Since Bucky doesn’t quite know what to do with himself, he gets to be undetermined. And the main reason why he’s not sure is because he’s missing a limb. Specifically, his left arm.

Bucky has never been one for sitting around in an office job, but most of the things he is geared towards – engineering, sports, mechanics – requires two arms. So. Bucky is stuck in a mythology class reading about some guy who had gotten his liver picked out by a vulture because he was dumb. Like Steve. Steve is dumb.

Briefly, Bucky daydreams about a vulture picking out Steve’s liver. It makes him feel better about being up at stupid o’ clock in the morning. He may have been in the army, but that does not mean he’s up at the buttcrack of dawn every morning like a lunatic. That would be Steve. Steve is a lunatic.

He’s so preoccupied with staring listlessly at the page in front of him that he doesn’t notice the redhead bobbing toward him in the mingled mess of students. It’s not until she’s upon him that he lifts his head and startles slightly. A charming smile meets his bleary gaze, and he curses the owner a little for being so peppy in the morning.

Of course, he would never curse Natasha Romanoff to her face, because he values his family jewels and he also is not that stupid, thank you. And he has full confidence in Natasha’s ability to remove him of those assets.

“Morning, James.” She purrs at him, and he winces inwardly at her use of his first name. Why can’t she just call him Bucky?

“I wasn’t in class yesterday – did I miss anything important?” She asks, tilting her head a little bit to the side.

Nat is in his Beginner Fencing class, even though it is quite obvious she doesn’t need to be. Bucky is pretty convinced she’s some sort of master ninja or something, and that’s part of the reason the younger woman is so terrifying.

He knows that he gets strange looks in that class sometimes. After all, he is an amputee. But, the good thing is that in fencing you only really need one arm – in fact, sometimes your free arm can get in the way. Nat has been the only one to truly understand that and go out of her way to make friends with Bucky, always choosing him to be her partner when they spar in class.

“Nah, nothing really,” he replies, taking a small sip of coffee. “We just went over footwork again since a lot of the others can’t seem to get a grip on the forward lunge without tripping over their lead foot.”

Nat smirks, flipping her hair out of her face. “They’re amateurs. Eventually they’ll get it.”

“Nat!”

Natasha turns at the shout, and Bucky looks around her curiously. A blond man is walking toward them, a coffee thermos in hand, his boots surprisingly silent on the concrete. Jeans hang low on his slim waist, and a baseball cap shades his eyes. Bucky is pretty sure his t-shirt is too tight to be legal.

“Hey, Bullseye, how are you today?” Nat asks him, right before the guy drops his head to her shoulder.

“Awful,” he groans out, and she pats his head with pity.

“I’m not sure how you’re not a morning person,” she says, “what with your upbringing and all.”

“Hmph.”

“Well, chin up, because you’re making me look bad in front of my fencing friend.”

The blond stiffens, raising his head slowly to look at Bucky. Bucky straightens, fiddling with the arms of his backpack and dropping his head quickly.

“James, meet Clint Barton. Clint, this is James Barnes.” Natasha smiles at Bucky as he extends his hand.

It takes Clint a second, but he reaches out and firmly grasps Bucky’s hand with his own, which is callused and strong. He glances at Bucky, wide-eyed, and Bucky notices a blush is beginning to creep along his cheekbones.

“I really need to get to class,” Clint suddenly blurts out, “we’re palpating heifers today.”

And just like that he’s gone, rushing away from Natasha and Bucky before Bucky can formulate a response. He looks at Nat, who gives a small shrug.

“It’s not you,” she says. “He’s always nervous around new people.”

“… Heifers?” Bucky asks, still unsure of what just happened.

Nat grins. “Clint’s an Animal Science major. Heifers are cows.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know that. What’s palpitating?”

“Palpating. Means he’s sticking his arm up their ass to check if they’re pregnant.”

Bucky gapes at Natasha a minute and then stands up and shakes his head. He shoves his book in his bag before slinging it on his shoulder. “It is too early for me to care about how that works.”

Nat laughs at him, and then he’s saying goodbye to her and headed to class, his mind lingering on the nervous man.

Who apparently does pregnancy checks on heifers with his arms.

… It really is too early for that.

\---

“Art majors are so weird, Buck. So weird.”

“You are an art major,” Bucky points out, snagging an apple as he and Steve make their way up to the cash register.

“That makes me even more qualified to say so,” Steve replies as he also grabs an apple and somehow finds a place for it on his tray. While Steve might be an art major, he still looks every inch of a jock, which amuses Bucky to no end. Especially when Steve attracts eyes left and right.

“Well, whatever weird thing happened to you involving art majors, I bet my weird experience tops yours.” Bucky swipes his card and gives the woman a cheery smile, that she wearily returns.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

“Well,” Bucky begins, as the pair begins to scope out a seat in the crowded dining hall, “I was talking to this chick who’s in my fencing class, and one of her friends walked up. I swear to God this guy looks like he walked straight out of a Keith Urban video. Please tell me you know who that is.” Bucky eyes Steve, who gives him a halfhearted shrug as they sit down.

“Sweet lord, I swear you’re actually from the 1940’s. He’s a country music star, okay?”

“Okay.” Steve lifts his burrito as Bucky starts picking at his fries.

“Right, so basically the guy looks like some sort of real life rancher or some shit, and you know what the first thing he said to me was? That he was late for class because he had to go stick his hand up a cow ass to see if it was pregnant!”

Steve chokes a bit on his burrito, and Bucky snorts at him. “Told ya my day was weirder.”

“Okay,” Steve coughs, shaking his head, “you definitely win.” He turns his attention back to his lunch, leaving a few minutes of silence as Bucky contemplates his fries far more than sticks of potatoes deserve.

“You know,” Bucky says thoughtfully, carefully examining a fry, “I’d probably ask him on a date.”

“You’d ask almost anyone on a date, Bucky.”

“Rogers, will you please get laid and get that stick out of your ass, oh my god.”

\---

When Bucky sees Clint the next time, it’s almost by accident.

He and Natasha are walking out of fencing class, and Clint is waiting outside the athletic complex. Natasha catches sight of him and waves him over, but upon seeing Bucky the shorter man stutters a step. Nat rolls her eyes and grabs Bucky’s arm, dragging him toward Clint.

“Wait, Nat-!”

“He’s gonna have to get over talking to people at some time, and there’s no time like the present.” She grits out, then smiles at Clint as they stop in front of him. “Hey there, Bullseye. How’s it goin’? You remember James?”

Bucky attempts to put on his best smile for the nervous man. “Please, call me Bucky “Even though your girlfriend insists on calling me James.”

Clint swallows. “Not my girlfriend. Also I need to go, right now, immediately.” He casts a pleading look at Natasha.

“O…Kay?” Bucky replies, confused as to why Clint is rushing off again.

“I have cow bones in my backpack that I need to take to my professor as soon as possible. As soon as possible being about five minutes ago. Natasha?” Clint’s drops Bucky’s gaze again, looking desperately at the redhead, and Nat sighs and pats Bucky’s shoulder. “Catch ya later, James.”

Bucky watches them leave, his mind still reeling. _Cow bones?_

Well. At least he can say with confidence that Clint has a boner for him.

\---

A week later finds him in fencing class with Natasha. The pair are out on the floor, their foils in hand and masks on. It makes talking a little more difficult, but Bucky’s had questions about Clint itching on his tongue all week, so when Nat blocks one of his forward thrusts he blurts out, “Hey Natasha, why does Clint hate me?”

“He doesn’t,” she replies, whipping the thin blade around neatly. He springs back to avoid her parry, tapping his foil against hers before attempting to tap her chest, missing entirely because her footwork is fantastic. “He’s afraid of talking to people. We’re working on it.”

“We?” Bucky smirks, knowing she can’t see it, but trusting she’ll hear it. “Thought you two weren’t a couple.”

“We aren’t, considering he’s gay.”

The words catch Bucky off guard, and Natasha takes advantage of the slight pause in his movement to strike with lightning speed, tapping him on the left side of his chest – though knowing to keep off the shrapnel scarring.

“Gotcha, James.” She pulls the blade away, and they both step out of fighting stance as the professor walks over.

“Good job Romanoff,” Fury says, looking pleased with her. “Barnes, remember to let your hips lead your legs and to keep your torso still – otherwise you’ll get hit like that every time. You two are free to go. The rest of you!” He turns, addressing the rest of class. “Finish up those sets! Just because Barnes and Romanoff look like extras from _The Princess Bride_ is no excuse to stare!”

Natasha pulls off her mask, smirking at Bucky as they move to the dressing rooms to take off their gear. She wordlessly unzips his jacket and he returns the favor, shrugging off the bulky material.

Nat speaks up as she’s removing her chest guard. “Do you have a class after this?”

Bucky looks over at her. “Uh, not for another hour and a half… Why?”

“Clint and I usually go to lunch. Since we’re out early I was gonna meet him over by his class. Wanna join us?” She throws the guard in the bucket with a disdainful look before meeting Bucky’s eyes again.

He shrugs with a grin, slinging his pack across his shoulders. “Sounds like fun.”

They exit the gym together, and as they reach the stairs, questions begin to fall out of Bucky’s mouth before he can think to censor them.

“So why’s he afraid of talking to people?”

“Just shy. He grew up in a small town in Virginia. But I keep telling him that if he wants to be a vet, his people skills have gotta get a bit better. I don’t care if he says he can talk to farmers, with the way he’s headed he’s gonna be big news once he’s out in the real world.”

“He’s on track to be a vet?”

“Not just on track. He’s top of the entire Pre-Vet degree, first in his class, and he’s holding a 4.0 right now.”

Bucky’s knees go a little weak. Cute and brainy? That’s okay with him.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Clint’s class is shop lab, over in the Ag building.”

Bucky looks at her, eyes furrowed. “We have an Ag building?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, James, we have an Ag building. And an Ag Department. One of the best in the state, actually.”

It turns out that the reason Bucky hadn’t known about the Ag building is because it’s on the far end of campus, secluded from the main hub. The building is older, and it strikes Bucky because of all the plants surrounding it. They are everywhere. It is little off putting, but at the same time it makes Bucky smile a little bit as he feels the different culture of the building.

Natasha seems to notice the look on his face, and she gives him a knowing smirk. “The Horticulture majors are very proud of their gardens. If you tell Clint that you like it he’ll pass it on. They would appreciate it.”

They enter the building, and it appears that the plants continued inside as well. Large ferns and trees occupy pots in each and every corner, their labels on careful display.

Natasha ignores Bucky as he gazes around, trying to read each one, and leads him over to a particularly spiky tree, which is labelled as a Madagascar Palm.

“ _Pachypodium lamerei_ ,” Natasha says, eyeing the barbed trunk. “It’s mine and Clint’s meeting place. We call it the Spiky Death Tree.”

“Alright then.” Bucky says with a grin, trying to not look too obvious as he looks around for Clint. There’s a class in session just down the hall, and there’s a voice drifting from it.

“Right, so we’re gonna actually start welding and I swear to god if any of you show up in anything but a long sleeve shirt the Prof is gonna have my ass, so please regulate dress code even if I don’t. He can’t actually get onto me because of reasons, but seriously, any of you little cute Ag majors show up in shorts or open toed shoes and I will accidently drop an anvil on your foot or something. I haven’t decided yet. And with that, I’m tired of looking at all of you, so class dismissed.”

There is a huge mass of shuffling noises and the clomping of boots, and then people begin to emerge from the classroom, their voices rising to fill the hallway as they chat to each other.

Clint is the last to exit the room, accompanied by a short black haired man who is wearing jeans, Converse, and an AC/DC shirt that looks older than Bucky. Clint himself doesn’t look too different from when Bucky first saw him; his boots and jeans are the same, but he’s wearing a different t-shirt. They each have a coffee thermos, and Clint is grinning at the other man as he speaks.

“I swear that goddamn Scandinavian in my electrical class is trying to show me up, Clint, and do you know how not okay that is? I don’t care if it’s an intro class, it’s not okay and it never will be.”

“Isn’t he your best friend, Tony?”

“That is beside the point and you know it, Barton.”

Clint chuckles, then catches sight of Natasha, and claps Tony on the shoulder. “As much as I want to hear you lament about your woes, but I have a hot lunch date.” He starts walking away, and Tony puts a hand to his chest in offense.

“I will stand by the claim that my ass is better than Romanov’s any day!” he calls.

Clint outright laughs. “Goodbye, Tony!”

It’s then that Clint spots Bucky and suddenly he drops his cheerful demeanor as though it has somehow burned his entire being. He swallows, and Bucky tries not to let his gaze trace the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I’ve invited James to lunch today,” Natasha explains cheerfully, “so try to be pleasant, yes?”

Clint nods a little shakily. “I think I might be able to manage that.”

Nat nods, and then turns on her heel and leads them out the door and back toward main campus.

\---

The conversation at lunch is mostly between Bucky and Nat, with Clint listening quietly at her side.

“Four pages and a half pages on the first day of class? Jesus. What kind of vindictive professor do you have?” Bucky shakes his head disbelievingly as the redhead smirks.

“A history one. Seems pretty standard for them. Since then I think I average about six pages of notes a lecture, so the first day was by far the easiest.”

Bucky’s lucky. He gets to type up most of his notes, and Steve says Bucky types at an unbelievable speed, but even then six pages is absolutely insane to him. If he were in that class, he would hope that his professor would be okay with him asking for a printed version of the notes. There would be no way for him to keep up otherwise.

Clint suddenly coughs, and Bucky’s eyes flit toward him in concern.

“In my basic animal health class, we had a timeline with eighty-six citations we had to know,” he murmurs, and his smile seems quiet. “So I think Nat had it pretty easy.”

Bucky’s heart stutters at the sight of that smile, but he tries to hide the (most likely deafening) pounding with a noise of disbelief. “ _Eighty-six_? What the hell? Was your professor vindictive or something?”

“Most likely.” Clint shrugs, and it’s like conversation is suddenly easy for him. Bucky takes it as a small victory. “The worst part was that he didn’t realize when he went over the allotted class time. I think the front row was ready to pitch a textbook at him. Luckily one of the older students stopped him before the younger ones had a come-apart.” He chuckles at the memory, shaking his head a bit.

“I’m surprised the older student didn’t just rip into him,” Bucky replies, and he notices how Natasha is smiling at him from the corner of her eye, encouraging him to keep Clint talking. Not that he really needed encouragement anyway.

“She wasn’t far off from doing it.” Clint suddenly meets Bucky’s eyes, and Bucky feels his lungs freeze. “Of course, we pre-vet students tend to be a scary bunch, though the professors are much scarier. Who do you think teaches us to castrate?” Clint glances at his watch, then grimaces. “Gotta run, else I’ll be late for anatomy. Thanks for lunch, Nat.”

He stands, kissing her temple quickly, then looks at Bucky. When he drops his eyes, Bucky’s not sure if he’s imagining the slight blush on his cheeks.

“It was nice to see you again… Bucky.” Then he’s gone.

Bucky feels slightly threatened, but also doesn’t want him to go.

\---

There are a lot of stereotypes around living with art majors, but Bucky finds that Steve just doesn’t fit into any of them. Thanks to his military background, he is rarely messy, and he doesn’t host a large amount of clutter anywhere in their apartment. His behavior is never erratic – in fact, it’s rather orderly and precise. He keeps a predictable schedule, which makes living with him almost too easy.

Of course, he and Bucky had served together, so perhaps it’s only due to their shared past that Bucky finds living with Steve as easy as walking.

In the mornings, Steve is always up first, just as the sun is rising, to depart for his morning jog. From there, it is up to Bucky to make breakfast – if he actually wakes up in time to do it – and get the coffee going (which he always has time for). Steve returns, and after throwing the paper plates in the trash and getting mugs to take with them, the two head off for classes. Sometimes from there they could catch lunch, but due to their conflicting schedules meeting together is sometimes a challenge – especially since Steve works the art gallery and Bucky mans the rec center desk.

Tonight is one of the rare times they have an evening off together, and so the two are using their precious free time to study. Not because Bucky particularly wants to, but he knows that if he flicks on the television and ignores his damn mythology book, Steve will pout those big blue eyes at him until he grows so guilty he’ll feel like he owes America an act of charity to counter the grievance of causing Steve Rogers disappointment.

He is pretty sure Steve knows that he isn’t actually reading his mythology textbook, though. He’s been staring at the same page for the last three minutes, and to be quite honest reading about Zeus screwing a Titan is not that interesting. Zeus screwed everyone. Bucky’s pretty sure that’s why the Greeks fell to the Romans – Zeus was just too busy having sex to notice invaders on his doorstep. Probably.

In any case, Bucky isn’t actually absorbing anything he’s supposed to be reading, because his mind keeps flitting back to play Clint’s smile over and over again, which really isn’t fair. Clint isn’t allowed to be distracting when he isn’t even in the damn room.

“Spill, Barnes.”

Bucky looks up to see Steve staring patiently at him from across the room, where he is seated at his easel, sketching out his latest project for his watercolors class. Steve hates that class.

“Spill what, Rogers? My water?” Bucky jerks his head towards his glass.

“Spill about the thing on your mind, which is obviously bugging you. You’ve been frowning at that book for the last five minutes. It feels personally victimized.”

“Screw you.” Bucky sets his jaw stubbornly and flips the page, wishing he still had his other arm so he could also flip Steve the finger, though he’s pretty sure the message is received loud and clear.

His moody silence broods for about ten minutes until he sighs angrily, glaring at Steve, who looks up and meets his look with raised eyebrows. “What?”

“Now you made me wanna talk about it.”

“Yes.”

“You planned this.”

“And?”

“And you’re a dick.”

Steve lifts a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, furrowing his brow at the easel in front of him. He really hates his watercolors class.

“It’s a guy, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And he’s really hot, okay?”

“I’d kinda figured that.”

“And I really want to ask him out but Natasha might shove my balls back into me.”

“Natasha from fencing?”

“Natasha from fencing.”

“I think she was in my intro to fine arts class in freshman year,” Steve muses, glaring at his project, while Bucky contemplates throwing his mythology book at him because Steve made him talk about his feelings and now Steve won’t even look at him and that’s not polite.

“You do realize you’re not helping.”

“Mm. Probably not. But you should ask him out.”

“Did you not hear the part about Natasha and my balls?”

“Should we be discussing Natasha and your balls while simultaneously discussing this male heartthrob of yours?”

“I’m going to shove your fucking balls back into you.”

“Language.”

“Did you just say ‘language’ you absolute fucking hypocrite?”

“Fuck off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and Comments help me to write a little faster! I'm not sure how quickly you can expect me to update, as I work and I'm in classes right now, but I'm hoping to have the next chapter out in two weeks. 
> 
> Miniatures is my absolutely wonderful beta who deals with me shouting at her a lot about writing things. 
> 
> Also: yes, I have stuck my hand in a cow. Yes, I have carried cow bones to class. Yes, my animal health professor had a timeline with 87 citations... And he went over every single one in class. And yes, my department does, indeed, have a spiky death tree.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky learns more about pig penises than he ever wanted to, and Steve is a nosy grandmother.

The next time Bucky finds himself in the Ag building, he is lacking a small redhead by his side. Natasha had missed fencing class yet again (Bucky is beginning to think that it was on purpose, considering how Fury hadn’t cared at all). However, once his class had let out he’d found his way back to that spiky death tree, and now he is scrolling through his phone while he waits for Clint, trying to keep his nerves at bay. He has no idea if Clint will even look at him, considering he isn’t with Natasha and how nervous the guy is. But, Steve had promised to choke him if he didn’t at least try to have lunch with “the guy who has made you into a pining little shit, for the love of god you need to get laid, Barnes.”

Obviously Steve is the one who needs to get laid, because Bucky is pretty sure having a stick that large in someone’s ass is a medical anomaly.

There is a sudden scraping of chairs and rustling of bags as Clint’s class lets out. Boots smack against linoleum floors as the students file out the doors, and Bucky slips his phone in his pocket as his nerves surge back. He swallows shakily, and Clint exits with the other man – Tony – by his side.

“How many cups of coffee have you had today?”

“Six.”

“Any breakfast?”

“No.”

“Lunch?”

“No.”

“Tony.”

“I am fine, Barton, go and appease that demon friend of yo-” Tony suddenly cuts off as his eyes land on Bucky. “That far too handsome beau by the spiky death tree.” He pats Clint’s shoulder, and suddenly he’s gone.

Clint shuffles his feet awkwardly before coming over to Bucky, eyes down and voice soft. “Where’s Nat?”

“Uh, she didn’t show up for class today.” Bucky rubs his hand along the back of his neck, heart thudding anxiously. “I was kinda hoping maybe you and I could grab lunch together?”

There’s a moment of silence, with Bucky’s breath catching in his chest as he waits for Clint to answer. He barely knows this punk and he’s already so afraid of being told no – he doesn’t want to think on that too long, or what it already might entail.

One of Clint’s shoulders lifts in a tiny shrug. “Why not?”

A whoosh of air leaves Bucky’s lungs and he gives a chuckle. “It’ll be great.”

\---

It’s not going great.

Clint is obviously still shy and unsure of himself, and Bucky isn’t sure what to do to fix that. They’ve been sitting in silence for the last ten minutes. The ex-soldier is about to rip his hair out.

“Tell me about your major.”

The words leave Bucky’s mouth unbidden, and Clint looks up in surprise. “Natasha said you’re a pre-vet major. Tell me about it. What are you guys learning?”

The blond chews thoughtfully, swallowing before carefully answering. “I’m not sure if what we’re going over is something you’d be comfortable discussing…”

“Won’t know unless you tell me!” Bucky flashes his most winning smile, and Clint sighs. Bucky considers it a win in his favor, because he’s pretty proud of that smile, thank you very much.

Clint mumbles something far too softly for Bucky to hear. He leans forward a bit, tilting his head. “What was that?”

“I said we’re going over male reproduction,” Clint hisses out, ignoring the surprised glance of a guy sitting at the table next to him. Bucky raises an eyebrow and nods slowly.

“So basically you’re going over dicks.”

The pre-vet major looks a little defensive as he nods. Bucky nods again, then shrugs with a grin. “I’ve got a dick. I play with dicks. Let’s talk dicks.”

Clint stares at him. Bucky grins. At least they’re talking now.

\---

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. You’re telling me pigs have a corkscrew penis? What the fuck, Barton?”

“Well, yeah. Sows – that’s a female pig, by the way – have like a twist in their vagina, so in order to get past the cervix the males have to have a slight corkscrew in their penis.”

            Clint is beautiful when he’s talking about his subject, even if that subject happens to be animal genitalia. This is the first time Bucky has seen the man so animated, and the light in his eyes and the passion in his voice is taking Bucky’s breath away. He thinks he could listen to Clint talk about pig penises for hours.

Clint bites into his apple, eyes twinkling at Bucky under his spiky hair.

Actually, Bucky doesn’t think. He knows. And he also knows he’s never wanted to kiss someone so much in his life, but he pushes the feeling to the side and grabs his bottle of water, contemplating his newfound information on livestock genitalia. He takes a swig, then quirks an eyebrow at Clint.

“So, is there anything else about pig penises I should know? Hopefully nothing that will ruin my appreciation of bacon?”

Clint smirks around the apple, swallowing. “Bacon has nothing to do with the penis - I hope you know that.” He tilts his left wrist slightly, eying the time on his watch with a sigh. “I should be getting back to the Ag building.”

He clears away the trash before Bucky has a chance to protest, tossing it in a nearby can. Bucky in return grabs both backpacks, slinging his across his shoulders and handing Clint’s to him. “Please don’t tell me you have more animal bones in this.”

“Not today,” the blond replies, shrugging it on, “though I do have plant samples for the range management professor.” He throws Bucky a quirky grin as they head toward the doors. Bucky really wishes he could extend time for just a little longer, if only to hear more about livestock than he ever wanted to.

He sighs as they step outside, opening his mouth to say something but getting cut off by Clint suddenly.

“Can I have your number?”

Bucky’s a little taken aback, but he automatically reaches into his right pocket, digging out the device, unlocking it, and handing it over. His brain caught up to what he was doing, and a little thrill went through him. Clint wanted his number. Might possibly text him. _Outside of school_.

Clint taps quickly on the screen, then shyly returns the phone. “I added my number and sent myself a text… Hope you don’t mind.”

Bucky grins. “I definitely don’t mind.” He glances at the clock, then looks back to the other man. “You should probably get to class. Don’t want you to be late.”

Clint returns the smile, then ducks his head, starting off toward his building. Bucky watches him go, surprised when he abruptly stops and turns around.

“Bucky!”

He turns toward the blond a little, angling his torso in his direction. “Yeah?”

“Was this a date?”

Bucky is taken aback, but a smile starts to spread on his face. “Do you want it to be?”

Clint shifts on his feet, then looks at Bucky, meeting his eyes. “Yeah?”

Bucky chuckles, then winks. “Then it was a date.”

Clint’s brilliant grin is brighter than the sun, and it warms Bucky’s heart as he turns and walks to class, and doesn’t fade for the rest of the day.

\---

“Did you get laid?”

Bucky frowns at Steve over his burger. “What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Please finish chewing before you speak.” Steve sighs, drawing his fork and knife through his pasta and slicing it quickly.

“What are you, my father? Make me.” Bucky makes a point of chewing and talking.

“You’re disgusting.”

Bucky gives him a full cheeked grin and Steve rolls his eyes. “So, did you?”

“What makes you think I got laid?”

“Your face. You’re like…. Happy and shit.”

“I am always happy, Steven.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been moping around the apartment for at least a week, and it suddenly stopped two days ago. Plus, you’ve stopped bitching about the stick up my ass.”

Bucky shrugs his armless shoulder, lifting his water bottle up. “Maybe it’s because you got laid so I could finally stop bitching about it. Did you get laid?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Steve levels his best _I was a Captain in the army_ glare at Bucky, who easily meets it.

“Didn’t change the subject. We’re still talking about getting laid.”

“You have the worst dodging tactics I have ever seen in my life. How the fuck did you survive deployment?”

Bucky makes a face at Steve, waggling his stump at him.

“Oh my god, Barnes.”

\---

“You definitely got laid.”

“Rogers, I swear to god.”

“You’re smiling at your mythology book.”

“It’s a funny chapter!”

They’re back in their apartment, and it’s late but they both have homework due and tests the next day, so they’re pulling one of their mutual all-nighters, which involves a lot of coffee, occasional chick flicks, sometimes crying, and not much studying. Usually.

Steve pulls a face at Bucky and grabs the mythology book from Bucky’s hand, ignoring the protest of “Excuse you, rude,” and glances quickly at the page.

“I’m not sure how you find the beheading of Medusa funny unless you’re a sadist.”

Bucky sticks his tongue out at the blond, then makes to grab the book out of the other’s hands. Steve dodges quickly, holding the book up over his head and Bucky scrambles after it, somehow managing to slap Steve in the face with the remainder of his other arm.  

“Ow, you fucker-” the book is released from Steve’s grasp and promptly hits Bucky square in the face, causing him to fall back on the couch.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky throws his head back to slow the burst of blood from his nose, rubbing his head. “I think I have a concussion.”

“Serves you right.”

“You started this!”

“You’re the one who got laid and won’t admit it.”

“If you’re jealous then you should have put a ring on it.” Bucky tilts his head toward Steve slightly as the other man walks into the kitchen to grab napkins. When Steve throws him a look over his shoulder, Bucky makes a point to ogle his ass and waggle his eyebrows.

Steve rolls his eyes, snatching some paper towels and walking back to hand them over. As he does so, he runs his eyes up and down Bucky in a thoughtful manner, and Bucky freezes for a second, worried Steve might be plotting something far too evil and devious.

Then, shrugs and shake his head with a sigh. “Sorry soldier, but… I don’t do sassy brunettes.”

\---

Bucky has to hand it to his roommate – he is thorough when it comes to investigating Bucky and his love life. It is a touch worrying, actually. Especially when he finds Steve meandering outside of the athletic building, clearly waiting for Bucky to get out of his fencing class.

“Oh my God,” Bucky growls, startling Nat mid-sentence. “I’m going to file a restraining order. He’s like a bad ex.”

She glances around Bucky to follow his gaze, and snorts as she notices the tall blond beginning to stride toward them. “A restraining order might make living with him slightly difficult.”

“Trust me, all I’d have to do is replace him with any bumbling shelter mutt. No one would know the difference.”

Steve stops in front of them just as Bucky finishes the sentence and levels a glare at him. “Stop threatening to replace me with a dog.”

“Quit acting like an oversized golden retriever and maybe I will.”

Steve rolls his eyes, before turning a brilliant smile to Nat. “Hey Natasha, how’re you?”

“I’m great, as usual.” She shoots him a smirk. Bucky knows she and Steve met previously in their Political Science classes, which Steve had taken as a general education course. Bucky still isn’t sure exactly what major Natasha is working on, because every time he asks, she deflects.

“Why’re you here, more importantly? Unless you brought me Oreos, it’s not a good enough reason,” Bucky grumps, his brow furrowed at Steve.

“Here to see who’s lucky enough to make you smile, because it’s certainly not me. Also, I have to approve who finally landed my favorite soldier.”

“Definitely not a good enough reason, and as a commanding officer you’re not supposed to pick favorites.”

“Shhh, Sarge.”

Bucky stares at his roommate, feeling the irritation bubble up. “You’re not spying on me.”

Steve shrugs. “Course I’m not. I’m just going to lunch with you. And Nat. And the mysterious person you refuse to admit exists.”

\---

When Tony and Clint leave as per usual, they’re greeted with the sight of Bucky laughing manically as Steve sucks on his thumb while giving Bucky a look that could kill. Nat’s busy rolling her eyes. Clint gives her a questioning glance.

“I can’t believe you did that, you bitch! What if my thumb had been punctured off-”

“You got stabbed by a tree!”

“No, you made the tree stab me-”

“A fucking tree, you goddamn idiot, I can’t believe you fell for it-”

Nat raises an eyebrow as she walks over to Clint and Tony. “I’m considering acting like I don’t know them.”

“Are you serious?” Tony replies. “Not knowing that blond is a crime, and I’m a criminal. I should fix that. Think talking to him counts as community service?”

Nat stares at Tony for a second, and then huffs out, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t know _you_. Clint, ready to go to lunch with the resident idiots?”

“Always, Romanoff.”

“Oh, there’s a group lunch? I’m invited, right?” Tony grins at them. Clint laughs.

“Of course, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW OKAY SO THIS DIDN'T GET UPDATED ALL SEMESTER I SUCK I'M SO SORRY. 
> 
> In any case, I'm on break no, so hopefully this will get updated more. If you have any ideas for things you want me to write or any questions about my fics, I have a tumblr just for my writing stuff now! Find me at captain-asexual.tumblr.com!
> 
> As always, shoutout to my wonderful beta, Miniatures!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out that shearing sheep is more complicated than anyone ever needed to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is so late. I apologize profusely - real life is kicking my ass. This chapter is also shorter than what I wanted to put out and I'm sorry for that too - and for the lack of a beta. Please let me know if you see any major errors.

Somehow, lunch isn’t as awkward as it should be. Tony manages to draw everyone into conversation, from Nat and her many different interests (particularly boxing, of which Bucky was not aware she was involved in), to Bucky and his thoughts on prosthetics, and finally Clint and his ideas on modern farm equipment. Not surprisingly, most of Clint’s concerns revolved around livestock.

“I’m not saying that portable shearing stands are a bad idea, Tony, I’m just saying that they need to be safer for the animals – do you know how many times I’ve seen a sheep launch themselves off the platform while still hooked onto the rack? They drag the whole thing with them.”

“Well, how to you think you’re gonna fix that? Can’t make ‘em heavier, that kinda deletes the whole purpose of being portable,” Tony asks, stabbing a blueberry in his fruit bowl and delicately plucking it from the fork with his teeth. Bucky didn’t miss the way Steve stared. Or when he bit his lip to glance down at his plate when Tony swallowed. 

“I’m not exactly the engineer here, Tony.” Clint replied, raising an eyebrow at his friend. “That’s your forte.”

“I’m not gonna argue with that, but we engineers like hearing new ideas you know.” Tony winks, and Bucky swears Steve’s blush would glow in the dark if he hit the lights off. 

“Well, when you tie horse to a trailer you can typically use hay twine to keep them from pulling the trailer over on them… If you could make the stand slightly heavier and put twine on the plastic chain keeping them in place, you could have it so if they pull back the twine breaks and the stand won’t flip over on top of them.”

Tony claps his hands together. “See? Anyone can be an engineer, no special schooling required.” Clint scoffs at him and shakes his head before his face quickly forms into a scowl as Tony lifts his cup of coffee to his lips. 

“I thought you were cutting back, Stark.”

“I am,” Tony replied warily, eying the blond over the rim.

“Uh-huh – what number is that one?”

“None ya business.” Tony said in a clipped tone, pointedly switching his gaze to his watch, clucking his tongue. “And if I don’t leave now, I will be late for my very important lab work.” 

“Don’t you mean your daily explosion?” Clint asks as he raises an eyebrow, throwing a smirk toward Bucky, who chuckles lightly.

Tony stands, pointing his hand at Clint as he does while lifting his tray in the other. “You tell dirty, filthy lies Barton, I do no such thing. I have a heart condition, I can’t be around explosions.”

“Yet you can drink six cups of coffee a day?” Nat chimes in, grin set in place.

Tony’s mouth clicks shut and he glowers at the redhead. “Oh look at how late I am, I really should go, y’know, away from you coffee judgers.”

Tony turns and waltzes away, causing Nat to giggle loudly. Bucky glanced over to Steve raising his eyebrows as he caught his friend checking out Tony’s ass. Steve flushed a bright red, leveling an index finger at Bucky. 

“Not a word, Barnes.”

Bucky raises his hand up in surrender. “I would never embarrass you Steve, especially not when you’re very seriously checking out the butt of an engineering major. That would make me a terrible friend.”

Nat glances between the two of them with unbridled glee clear on her face, while Clint huffs a snort.

Steve’s eyes take on a malicious glint, and Bucky feels his heart stutter a beat, because he knows that look only too well. 

“Not any more terrible of a friend than I would be if I happened to, I don’t know, thoroughly interrogate Clint here, seeing how he’s the one that’s caused that dopey ass look on your face, and my duty as best friend is to be sure he up to my standard.”

Bucky face suddenly feels warm and he coughs awkwardly, refusing to make eye contact with Clint or even glance in his general direction. “Steve.”

“Yes, Buck?” Steve replies, batting his blue eyes at his friend innocently. He meets Bucky’s steely gaze easily, and Bucky curses the fact that the man knows him so well, knows that this relationship building between himself and Clint – though slow and fast all at once – knows it’s something serious. And while Steve wouldn’t do anything to harm it, Bucky knows the blond is very serious about making sure Clint is officially Boyfriend Material for Bucky, simply because Steve is annoying like that.

“I’m… Not gonna do this right now.” Bucky stands suddenly and slings his backpack over his shoulder, eyes down as he quickly leaves the dining hall, his cheeks burning.

He just starts walking, not sure where he’s going but knowing it’s going to be far away from the area where Steve and Clint are in the same vicinity. Or at least the area where Clint is, seeing how he’s not sure how he’s ever going to look the man in the face ever again. 

He stops in his tracks when a hand claps down on his shoulder, the touch unexpected but light. He turns, realizing he’s in a quiet corner of campus, near one of the dorms, and comes face to face with Clint. He feels his eyes widen, and his stump jerks uncomfortably as he tries to rub the back of his neck before remembering that, oh yeah, he doesn’t exactly have an arm there. He sighs, rolling the shoulder to get rid of the twinge, and raises his eyes to Clint’s. 

“Sorry about Steve man, he’s great at making things really weird -” Bucky begins, but he falters as Clint gives him a real, open smile, one he’s only seen a handful of times, and shakes his head.

“Dopey ass look, huh?” The man’s voice is soft, and were the tone any lower, Bucky would strain to hear it. 

He feels his breath catch in his ribcage, and his heart thumps wildly, to the point where his chest hurts a bit. “Apparently I haven’t quit smiling since our date.”

Clint’s eyes are shining at him, his face beaming. “Nat told me to grow a pair and just make a move already.”

Bucky chuckles, and feels how they’re drawing impossibly closer to each other, searching the eyes of the other. “She told you that just now?”

“She told me that from the day I first saw you and every day after, honestly.” Clint shrugged a bit. “So here I am, making a move.”

His hands come up to cup Bucky’s jaw, and before Bucky can react or absorb that little tidbit of information he’s got Clint’s lips over his own and they’re kissing. He exhales a breath he hadn’t realized had been caged in his chest against Clint’s mouth, and the blond seems to take that as an invitation to deepen the kiss, reached back to tangle his fingers in Bucky’s messy bun and cradle his skull. Bucky unconsciously moves his arm up between Clint’s shoulder blades, his body reacting instinctively to the kiss, easily. 

Somehow, it felt too fast, but also like he’d been waiting for this for so long. It was a strange sensation, one he’d never felt before – but one he would hopefully never tire of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments really motivate me to write! Also you can find me at captain-asexual.tumblr.com and pester me to write faster!
> 
> And in case we're keeping track of what I've done in regards to being an animal science major - yes I have sheared sheep and yes I have seen the situation Clint described.


End file.
